306 poems, viewed 965,084 times
O Sarasvatī, Who plays the lute! Give boon.
Fill the country known as new Bhārata with enticing and free songs, and nectar like chants.
O Mother! Tear apart the shackles of darkness in heart and then let a river of light flow. Absolve dirt, differences and darkness, and fill them with light — thereby making everything resplendent.
Bless the birds of the new horizon (i.e., people of the new country) with new speed, new tunes, new musical measures, new verses, new voice, new cloud of songs, and new voice yet after new voice.
Poet: Sūryakānta Tripāṭhī
Translator: Animesh Kumar
Submitter: Animesh Kumar
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